Sir Walter Scott was born on August 15, 1771.  Besides being the inventor of the historical romantic novel, such as Ivanhoe,  he is also known for the many phrases coined in his writings,  “Caught red-handed,” “cold shoulder,” “go berserk,” “lock, stock, and barrel,” “tongue in cheek,” back of beyond,” and “apple of my eye,” are all common phrases attributed to Scott.

          “Blood is thicker than water,” is another, meaning that family relationships are more important than those between unrelated people.  I think to Christians, though, the sad truth of the matter is, “Blood is thicker than the waters of baptism.”

            How many times have you seen a preacher change his views on an issue when suddenly it involved his family instead of someone else’s?  How many times has an elder of the church shown a difference in how he treated the sins of one member and the sin of another based upon his family relationship with them?  And how many times has a family left the church disgruntled, or taken up for their wayward kin, when the church’s obligation to discipline fell upon that sinner?  Many seem to forget that Jesus plainly told us, “He who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me.”

            Jesus loved his earthly family.  He made a point to give his mother over to the care of her nephew John, even while he hung in agony on the cross.  Yet when the family came to see him while he preached, he asked those who informed him, “Who is my mother and who are my brethren?  And he stretched forth his hands to his disciples and said, Behold my mother and my brethren!  For whoever shall do the will of my Father who is in heaven, he is my brother and my sister, and my mother,” Matt 12:48-50.

            The Jews counted heavily on physical relationships.  More than once they proudly claimed, “We have Abraham as our father,” to which Jesus replied, “If Abraham were your father you would do the works of Abraham,” John 8:38-40.  John told them from the beginning of his ministry, “Do not begin to say within yourselves, We have Abraham to our father for I say to you that God is able of these stones to raise up children to Abraham,” Luke 3:8, so this was not a new thought, and it plainly shows how little physical relationships mean to God.

            We could multiply the verses telling us that physical parentage is not the most important thing, but rather one’s spiritual parentage.  Abraham, as the father of the faithful, is usually the one designated as our spiritual patriarch.  This also makes the point to the Gentile Christians that they did not have to be physically related to that great believer to be his children, and they were not second class citizens because they did not have a physical Jewish heritage.

            “…that [Abraham] might be the father of all who believe, even though they be in uncircumcision,” Rom 4:11.

            “…which is of the faith of Abraham who is the father of us all,” Rom 4:16.

            “And if you are Christ’s you are Abraham’s seed, heirs according to the promise,” Gal 3:29.

            “For verily not to angels does he give help, but to the seed of Abraham,” Heb 2:16.

            And especially to the women, “Even as Sarah obeyed Abraham…whose daughter you are as long as you do well,” 1Pet 3:6.

            It does not matter who your parents are.  It does not matter where you came from.  It does not matter your race or country of origin.  You are the children of whomever you take after.  That is the meaning of so many metaphors in the scriptures.  Are you a “son of disobedience?”  You are if you disobey.  Are you a “child of light?”  You are if you walk in the light.  It is the spiritual aspect of a person that determines his spiritual end.  And that couldn’t be fairer, because while we cannot control who our physical parents are, we can control who our spiritual parents are.  Doesn’t that make it even more wonderful when those physical parents are also part of your spiritual family?

            If you are not living right, don’t blame your parents or society.  Abraham came from idolatrous ancestry, having grown up in an idolatrous culture, Josh 24:2.  Yet he is the very one given as an example of faith and obedience.  If he can overcome his heritage so can we, and if our heritage is a godly one, we of all people have no excuse.

            The waters of baptism have given us new parentage, a Father in Heaven, and new siblings, both here and in Heaven.  When we believe that physical relationships trump the spiritual, when our obligations to God are put aside for the sake of a family member, we are not just disowning the members of the church, but also our Father and Older Brother in Heaven.  We are saying that physical blood means more than spiritual water that put us into the sacrificial blood that frees us from a life of sin (Rom 6: 1-14).  No wonder he said He would deny us if we deny Him.
 
They answered and said to him, Our father is Abraham.
Jesus said to them, If you were Abraham’s children, you would do the works of Abraham…
[They said] We have one Father, even God.
Jesus said to them, If God were your Father you would love me…Why do you not understand my speech?  Because you cannot hear my word.  You are of your father the Devil, and the lusts of your father it is your will to do…When he speaks a lie he speaks of his own, for he is a liar, and the father thereof.  But because I say the truth you believe me not…For this cause you hear not—because you are not [children] of God, John 8:39-47.
 
Dene Ward

A few years ago, we had the coldest winter in years.  While it never went below 20 on my back porch thermometer, we had more consecutive nights in the 20s than I can remember in a long time, and twice had snow in the forecast.  We didn’t get any, but towns not too far north and south of here did.  For nearly two weeks in January the high temperature never climbed over 40.  That is NOT normal in Florida.

            More than any winter in recent times I was glad to have my wood stove sitting in the middle of the house.  When I came in chilled from being outdoors a little too long or damp from the many winter rains, or when I drank just a little too much iced tea for supper, I had a place I could back up to and get warm again. 

            On July 17, 1902, Carrier invented the first air conditioner, which later became central air, and then central heat and air.  As big a boon as that was, especially in the heat of a Florida summer, it lacks something in the winter—no place to go to get warm.  You don’t really want it that warm everywhere in the house.  Washing a sink full of dishes, or baking for a couple of hours in the kitchen would be too uncomfortable.  And who can afford the heating bill if you actually put the thermostat at something over 70?  But having every place in the house under 70 is uncomfortable.

            I remember dressing for school on winter mornings in the warm center hall of our little house, draping my clothes over the door to the oil heater to warm them, and huddling up to it while I waited.  It may have been chilly in the bedroom, but there was always somewhere to go to get warm.  Every home should have a center of warmth somewhere, a place where you feel like you are wrapped in a warm embrace. Every soul should have one too.

            Think about the scenes of comfort and acceptance the Bible speaks of.  Jesus took the little children “into his arms,” (Mark 9:36); John was “reclining in Jesus’ bosom,” (John 13:23); Lazarus died and went to Paradise and lay “in [Abraham’s] bosom,” (Luke 16:23).  It speaks of an intimacy we can only imagine, as Christ was before time in Heaven “in the bosom of the Father,” (John 1:18).  I cannot remember how many times I held a sick child in my lap, wrapping him up in my arms, a blanket over the both of us to keep him warm.  That often made him feel better than the medicine did, if not more so.

            The Lord’s bosom is where we go when the world seems a little too cold; when a spiritual fever wracks our souls and gives us chills; when even a friend greets us with an icy stare, when we are alone and need close contact with someone who loves us.

            God always provides a center of warmth for His children.  Run into His arms and get warm again.
 
He will feed His flock like a shepherd, He will gather the lambs in His arm, and carry them in His bosom, and gently lead those that have their young, Isa 40:11.
 
Dene Ward

Back in the late 19th century a man named William Smart lost his wife in childbirth.  Somehow he managed to raise that infant and the five older children all on his own while supporting them all as well.  When his daughter Sonora Dodd grew up, she finally realized what an amazing feat that had been and how much her father had sacrificed for all of them.  She asked her minister to preach a sermon honoring fathers on June 5, 1909, her father’s birthday.  Evidently she did not give the man enough notice so the sermon did not occur until June 19 that year, the third Sunday of the month.

           It became a tradition there and gradually spread.  A national holiday in honor of fathers was supported by Calvin Coolidge but was not made official until 1966 by President Lyndon Johnson.

            When we discussed Mother’s Day I hope you remember that parenting magazine I spoke of that offered a list of things for moms to do since no one ever bothered doing anything for them [it opined], thirty-one items totaling nearly $1000.  The next month, Father’s Day month, that same magazine “celebrated Pop culture” with an article taking up less than a fourth of one page, the rest being filled with a 72 point font title and a picture of a dad playing with a little girl. 

            And what were we supposed to do for dads?  Four measly items, none of which cost a penny, and two of which were not even directed toward the fathers.  Read a book called Animal Dads.  Teach your kids how to say, “Dad,” in several other languages.  Help your kids learn some silly jokes to make their dads laugh.  Make sure they have breakfast with their dads at least once that month.  Evidently fathers are not worth a whole lot.

            While I don’t espouse spending nearly $1000 doing something every day of June for fathers any more than I did for mothers in May, doesn’t this strike you as incredibly biased?  Yet it all fits in with our society’s downplaying of the importance of the role of father.

            You haven’t noticed?  How long has it been since we have regularly had television shows with strong, intelligent fathers?  No, instead, if you get a father at all he is a buffoon on the order of Tim “the Tool Man” Taylor, an uncultured, clumsy, immature, dare I say “stupid” clod, who must constantly be pulled out of trouble by his smarter, wiser, more responsible wife.  Or you get a family without a father or with too many fathers, or simply a work-based sitcom because career is the center of everyone’s life now.

            Add The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedan to the sexual revolution of the sixties and you get a society that believes a nuclear family is no longer necessary.  Women don’t need men except as sperm donors; they can raise their children alone just fine, thank you.  And while that may get you a few more women who no longer feel guilty about making their professional level careers the most important part of their lives, women who can afford nannies or other private care, it also gets you the rise of “the feminization of poverty,” as Mona Charen puts it in her op-ed pieces.  There are far more Wal-Mart cashiers and diner waitresses trying to make a living for their kids than there are female doctors and lawyers.  They were told they didn’t need a man and they believed it, so their children are being raised by grandparents or daycare center workers or simply being left alone at home, and they are pinching pennies trying to feed them and keep them warm in the evenings.  The media perpetuates the myth and more young women are taken in because they grew up on television shows with scripts—one crisis and suddenly we have a breakthrough and everyone lives happily ever after, all in thirty minutes.  Unfortunately, we are living real lives not following scripts with rosy endings.

            When God made the first family, He made a mother and a father—one each.  There may be legitimate times when that cannot happen, but we should be trying to help those single parents and deprived children, filling in as missing role models rather than telling them it doesn’t matter.  How will we ever have a nation of strong fathers if there are no examples for our sons to follow?  How will fathers ever realize how important they are when we minimize and marginalize those men as if they were nuisances instead of necessities?

            If your father is still alive, I hope you tell him how much you appreciate him.  If your husband is being the kind of father he ought to be, I hope you let him know how much you appreciate him.  If you are a dad, I hope you know that you are necessary to the lives of your children.  That is what God had to say about the matter—don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.
 
Hear, my sons, the instruction of a father, and attend to know understanding; for I give you good doctrine; forsake not my law.  For I was a son unto my father, tender and only beloved in the sight of my mother.  And he taught me and said to me, let your heart retain my words, keep my commandment and live, Prov 4:1-4.
 
Dene Ward

On May 9, 1914, President Woodrow Wilson proclaimed the second Sunday in May to be Mother’s Day, "as a public expression of love and reverence for the mothers of our country."  I wonder what he would make of the way some folks view that day today.
          
            Last week I read two articles, each in a different magazine, about how to celebrate Mother’s Day all month long.

            The first was “Thirty-One Ways to Indulge Yourself,” a day by day guide through the month of May, “because no one ever takes care of you.”  I read through the calendar, at first smiling and sighing a little, but gradually growing more and more perturbed.  The list included things like, “Hire a handyman for a day to do all those chores your husband never gets to.”  “Go for a massage, at least a full half-hour appointment.”  “Get a pedicure and buy at least two new colors of nail polish.”  “Buy yourself a new piece of jewelry.”  I added up the entire list—readers were encouraged to do it all—and even estimating low (like costume jewelry instead of the real thing), I came up with a total of nearly $1000.00.

            A thousand dollars in one month would have made a mortgage payment, bought the groceries, AND paid the gasoline and electric bills when my children were still at home. 

            I am a mother--I understand that, as a general rule, mothers are overworked.  I tell every young couple that they should realize from the get-go that every young mother is always tired from the double whammy of pregnancy and delivery, followed by the constant care of a little person who does not understand schedules yet, and every young father always feels stressed from the realization that he is now responsible not only for another body, but as spiritual leader of the home, another soul as well.  In addition he is constantly bewildered by his young wife’s raging hormones, hormones she herself is disconcerted by and trying to control.  This is the nature of the job you have taken upon yourselves.  The whole process can be overwhelming.  But no one has the right to bankrupt her family because she is feeling weary. 

            The other magazine article was deceptively similar.  However, the words “almost free” and “for real moms” were also in the title.  Rather than 31 items laid out on a calendar, one for every day of the month, it was a list of 23 to choose from.  Evidently this writer understood that “real moms” have neither the time nor money to play every day.  What did they include?  “Free up the driveway and create some elaborate chalk art with your children.”  “Catch fireflies, minnows, or other tinies in a clean jar; take a good long look and maybe a photo or two, then let them go.”  “Declare a spa day with your kids, sipping smoothies by the (wading) pool, and giving each other manis and pedis.”  “Draw a comic book together, then make copies so the kids can share them with their friends.”  Are you noticing a difference here?

            Now let me add this bit of information to the mix.  One article was in Parenting.  The other was in a quarterly publication put out for customers of the grocery chain Lucas worked for at the time.  This is obvious, right?  The “experts” understand that young parents first, live on a budget, and second, need encouragement and suggestions for how to spend more “quality” time (I hate that phrase!) with their children, teaching them such things as core values and priorities, and the other magazine was interested in boosting retail sales during a sagging economy.  Wrong.  Parenting is the magazine suggesting that all young mothers go out and spend a good chunk of the family’s income pampering themselves for a solid month.  I am actually proud of Lucas’s company.  If I still had children at home, we would have probably done quite a few of the things they suggested.  The total cost for the whole list was about $10, and it also included some volunteer work.

            Now is it any wonder that elders and preachers regularly warn the church about non-Christian counselors, therapists, and mentors?  Is it any wonder that the average family is falling apart at the seams and couples are deep in debt?  Can you understand why this is also affecting the church?

            Parenting is a commitment just as much as Christianity is.  God has entrusted precious souls to you, and He expects them returned in good shape, better in fact than when He gave them to you.  A mother, or father for that matter, who folds when it requires sacrifice—major sacrifice—is not worthy of the name.

            When you become a parent, it is surprising how fast the feelings overwhelm you.  Love for your child is not just strong, it is fierce.  At least it should be.  It is exactly that fierceness that keeps you going when you lose sleep, when your body aches, and when your heart breaks because of the trials of parenting.  Nothing in this world is worth losing your child or his soul.  That is what the so-called experts need to be teaching us these days.  We already have enough selfish people out there who want the title without doing the job.
 
Can a woman forget her sucking child that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb?…As a father pities his children, so Jehovah pities those who fear him…If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more shall your father who is in Heaven, give good things to those that ask him, Isa 49:15; Psalm 103:13; Matt 7:11.
 
Dene Ward

Keith mentioned a few weeks ago that Sonny James had died. 

            “Who?” I asked.
           
            “You know—‘Running Bear,’ and ‘Young Love’—the country singer.”

            Ah!  “Running Bear” I remembered.  It was on the radio nearly every day for a while when I was a young teen.  Sonny James was born on May 1, 1928,  Keith found an article and there it was all set out for us:  26 #1 hit singles and 16 #1 hits in a row.  He still holds the record for consecutive #1 hits by any solo recording artist throughout all musical genres.  And I couldn’t remember who he was!

            So, I got to thinking and, it being just passed, I looked up the Oscar winners.  Tell me, do you know who Warren Baxter was?  He won the 1930 Best Actor Oscar for his role in “In Old Arizona.”  I never even heard of the movie.  How about Paul Lukas?  He won in 1944.  Don’t tell me, “But that’s so long ago.”  It hasn’t even been a hundred years.  It certainly isn’t ancient history.

            How about nominees?  Let’s just sit awhile in the Best Actress category.  Ruth Chatterton?  Betty Compson? Jeanne Eagels?  They were nominated in 1928.  May Robson and Diana Wynyard?  They came along in 1932.  Martha Scott?  That was 1941, and Celia Johnson was nominated in 1945.  Okay, let’s make it easier.  How about 1966?  That was Ida Kaminska.  I still never heard of her.  Marie-Christine Barrault was nominated in 1976.  Surely you know her?  Here’s an easy one—1989.  Most of you were probably born by then.  Ever hear of Pauline Collins?  Me neither.

            I bet I could do the same thing with Emmys, Tonys, Grammys, and how about Heisman awards?  Do you see the point?  A huge percentage of these people will never be remembered by anyone just a few years from now.  Acting is not that important in the grand scheme of things.  Touchdown passes, slam dunks, and home runs don’t really matter.  Why, oh why, do we lavish our praise and adoration on these people?  Why do we wear their colors and their numbers, dress like they do, talk like they do, and want their signatures on hats and shirts and napkins?

            Think for a minute: who do we remember?  How about a widow who sewed for the poor in the town of Joppa?  How about a Christian couple who were chased out of Rome for being of Jewish extraction, but who kept traveling preachers in their home and even helped teach them and anyone else who came along, even at the risk of death?  How about a wealthy woman in Jerusalem who allowed the church to meet in her home in the midst of a dangerous persecution so they could pray for those in prison?  How about a disciple in Damascus who took his life into his hands to preach to one of the church’s worst persecutors?  How about yet another one who was known for his encouraging ways, who traveled and preached and took young preachers under his wing till they could grow to be mature servants of God?

            I bet you know every one of their names and can find their stories in your Bible.  These are the things that last.  These are the things that no one will forget.  These are the things that will make a difference to lives, and more than that, to eternal souls. 

            And most of these are things we can do, too.  Do you want to be remembered?  Put down the football.  Throw down the novel.  Turn off the DVD.  Pull out the earbuds.  Now go out there and do good to whomever you find, everywhere you can.  You will be remembered—by many, and especially by the One who counts.
 
​…Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. ​For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also…for what is exalted among men is an abomination in the sight of God.  Luke 12:33-34; 16:15.
 
Dene Ward

P S--Happy birthday son!

On April 2, 1931, Jackie Mitchell, a seventeen year old rookie with the Southern Association’s AA Chattanooga Lookouts, was put on the mound in relief when the Yankees stopped by for an exhibition game on the way home from spring training. 

            The first batter to face Mitchell was Babe Ruth.  The rookie pitched a ball.  Then came a swing and a miss, twice.  The next pitch was a called strike.  In four pitches the teenager had struck out Babe Ruth.

            Next up was Lou Gehrig—three swings and three misses—OUT. 

            Did I mention that Jackie was a girl?

            Before the game Ruth had commented:  “[Women] will never make good [in baseball].  Why?  Because they’re too delicate.  It will kill them to play every day.”  Then he and his fellow future Hall-of-Famer were promptly struck out by a woman, and a teenage rookie at that.

            And when the Philistine looked about and saw David, he disdained him for he was but a youth, and ruddy, and withal of fair countenance.  And the Philistine said unto David, Am I a dog that you come to me with staves?  And the Philistine cursed David by his gods, 1 Sam 17:42,43.

            Goliath had the same problem Babe Ruth did.  He thought he was invincible.  Certainly a young, inexperienced teenager couldn’t beat him.  Even some of God’s own people thought the same, especially David’s brothers.  “What are you doing here, you little twerp?  You left your work just to come watch the battle, didn’t you?”

            We say all the time that we have faith, that we know God can handle anything.  Yet when we see God’s methods, we instantly doubt.  “This can’t be right.  It’ll never work.”  We find ourselves standing with the Jews who rejected our Lord.  “Who does he think he is?  He’s just the carpenter’s son.  This is God’s idea of a king?” 

            What kinds of giants are you attempting to slay in your life?  Anger, depression, addiction, foul language, a persistent sin that it seems you can never control?  Are you in the middle of a painful and debilitating illness?  Have you lost someone close to you, someone you are not sure you can live without?  Has a long persistent trial depleted you of spiritual energy?  If a teenage rookie can strike out Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig back to back, something God doesn’t even care about, much less would intervene in, why can’t I strike out the problems that beset me when the Almighty God has promised to help me do just that? 

            How many times has God conquered a nation with just a handful?  Review today the stories of Gideon, of Jonathan and his armor bearer, of the angel of the Lord who struck down 180,000 Assyrians in one night to save the besieged nation of Judah.  Think about Esther who saved an entire race of people without a miracle, about Jehosheba who thwarted a massacre by stealing a baby away in the night thus saving the Messianic dynasty from the pollution of Ahab’s sin.  Remember the many parents who raised children in faith, children who grew up to save countless numbers with their preaching—Zacharias and Elizabeth, Eunice, Mary of Jerusalem, and of course, Mary and Joseph, insignificant people making a more than significant impact because they trusted God to help them.

            God can accomplish anything He wants to accomplish, any way He wants to accomplish it.  If I think otherwise, I might very well be keeping Him from accomplishing something wonderful through me.  Open your heart this morning.  Un-tether your faith from thoughts of impossibilities, and fasten on to a God who knows no limits. 
 
And Asa cried unto Jehovah his God and said, Jehovah, there is none besides you to help, between the mighty and him that has no strength.  Help us, O Jehovah our God, for we rely on you and in your name are we come against this multitude. O Jehovah, you are our God, let no man prevail against you, 2 Chron 14:11.
 
Dene Ward

Masquerade balls have a varied and grisly history, depending upon which historian you believe.  Some say they were invented by the Venetian upper classes in the sixteenth century during Carnival season as a way to let loose without getting into trouble.  Others say they began in the fourteenth century in France when whole villages celebrated an important event, often a welcome of some high dignitary into their town.  Crimes were sometimes committed amid the anonymity, as well as immorality of all sorts, especially drunkenness, gluttony and lust.  The English took them up in the eighteenth century, though some considered them outings for “The Man of Taste.”  Then the Swedes discovered them, but on the night of March 16, 1792, King Gustav III was assassinated at his own masquerade ball by a disgruntled nobleman.  He died two weeks later on March 29 and due to an informant among the cabal, so did the murderer’s anonymity.
           
            God’s people would never try to hide their sins would they?  The people of God have always understood that as God, He knew everything they did, even the things done “in secret,” right?

            At that time Abijah the son of Jeroboam fell sick. And Jeroboam said to his wife, “Arise, and disguise yourself, that it not be known that you are the wife of Jeroboam, and go to Shiloh. Behold, Ahijah the prophet is there, who said of me that I should be king over this people. Take with you ten loaves, some cakes, and a jar of honey, and go to him. He will tell you what shall happen to the child,” 1Kgs 14:1-3.

            Consider the foolishness of this situation.  Jeroboam believes this man is a prophet of God, yet he thinks he can trick him, first by sending someone instead of going himself, and second by disguising that someone.  If God can do what Jeroboam believes He can, then how will He be fooled by a disguise?

            This isn’t the only instance recorded in the scriptures.  Ananias and Sapphira come quickly to mind.  But in my lifetime, I’ve seen Christians do the same thing again and again, and sadly, sometimes I have fallen into this trap too. 

            Usually it’s the obvious—Sunday morning Christians who seem to think that God does not know what goes on the rest of the week, as if He is bound by the meetinghouse doors.

            But there are a few more complex ways of disguising ourselves.  Some of us do the right things, but without the heart, or with entirely the wrong heart.  As long as God sees me take the Lord’s Supper every Sunday or attend whenever the doors are opened, it doesn’t matter that I hate every minute of it.   As long as I give, it doesn’t really matter if I do it grudgingly or not.  As long as I shake everyone’s hand, it doesn’t matter if I hate the very sight of them.  Really?

            But then there are those who raise their hands and shout hallelujah, who “give God the glory” every other sentence and hug everyone in sight, but who are quick to find an excuse for not doing exactly what God says He wants.  “It’s such a little thing…”  “God wouldn’t mind…”  “But God knows my heart.”  Yep.  He knows it’s a heart of self will that only pretends to love and worship Him as long as it gets things its way.

            Hypocrisy, legalism, ritualism, emotionalism—God wants none of these disguises.  He wants people who love Him and serve Him the way He wants to be served, because He is the great and glorious God who sees all we do and knows our hearts, and He alone deserves it.  God has never gone for masquerades.
 
The LORD looks down from heaven; he sees all the children of man; from where he sits enthroned he looks out on all the inhabitants of the earth, he who fashions the hearts of them all and observes all their deeds, Ps 33:13-15.
 
Dene Ward

Leprosy was the most feared disease in the Bible.  It wasn’t just the impending death.  Other diseases were terminal.  But leprosy was the disease that killed your life before you ever died.
 
           The first mention of leprosy in historical documents was about 1500 BC.  The Bible mentions it as early as the book of Leviticus where its description and treatment are listed in chapters 13 and 14.  As the centuries progressed, most doctors considered leprosy a genetic disease.  Finally on February 28, 1873, Dr. Gerhard Henrik Armauer Hansen of Sweden discovered the bacillus that caused leprosy, proving once and for all that it was indeed an infectious disease, and eventually giving his name to it: Hansen’s disease.  The Bible seemed to realize from the beginning that it was infectious.

            A leper was considered ceremonially “unclean,” Lev 13:46.  That means he was no longer fit to even stand before God, much less serve Him.  If he were a priest, he could not partake of the sacrifices, Lev 22:4.  But no matter who he was, he was banned from the Temple, 2 Chron 26:21, and expelled from the people because his mere presence defiled the entire group, Num 5:2,3.

            He lived in isolation with others who shared his doom, and was required to warn anyone who might come near him with the shout of, “Unclean!  Unclean!” He had to make his disease obvious by his appearance, wearing torn clothes and leaving his hair loose and disheveled, with his upper lip covered, Lev 13:45.

            Leprosy became a metaphor for sin in the Bible, as should be obvious from the verses cited above and their spiritual significance-not fit to serve God, not fit to enter into His presence, not fit to be with His people, in fact, one who would defile the whole people.  God sent leprosy as a punishment several times—on Miriam, on Gehazi, on King Azariah/Uzziah.  The progress of the physical disease begins with an invisible infection, leading to disfigurement, deterioration, and death.  Surely you can see the progress of sin in a person’s life in parallel.

            And that leaves us with two profound lessons.  First, for Jesus to actually touch a leper and heal Him showed not only his power but also his mercy.  And Jesus is the only one who can cure us of that disease called sin.  He was the one who loved us enough to come down among all of us spiritual lepers, regardless of the danger of infection, and make us clean.  How many of us are like the nine lepers instead of the Samaritan, who was so profoundly grateful for being cleansed that he would fall on his face in gratitude to the one who cleansed him, even if it delayed his symbolic entrance back into the fold?

            And second, we should view sin as we view that awful disease.  Too many times I see Christians who flock to other diseased (sinful) people, heedless of the risk of infection, in fact, hoping for it, rather than treating it like the life-endangering disease it is.  Yes, we need to serve the sinners--by leading them home to the Great Physician, not by trying on their clothes, eating from their bowls, and rolling around in their beds. Sin, like leprosy, will make us outcasts from God, the only source of a cure.  Don’t we realize that, or is it that we long to be lepers like the rest of the world?
 
And behold, a leper came to him and knelt before him, saying, “Lord, if you will, you can make me clean.” And Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, saying, “I will; be clean.” And immediately his leprosy was cleansed, Matt 8:2-3.
 
Dene Ward

On February 15, 1876 the Seth Thomas Clock Co received a patent for the first alarm clock.  I doubt it was as beautiful a sound as the alarm clock I had one day last week when a wren sat on a limb outside my window and sang out its clear, loud, beautiful song.  It wasn’t quite time to get up, but it was such a nice alarm clock I found myself in a much better humor all morning despite the early rise.

            I thought throughout the day of the various “alarm clocks” I have had in my life—the gentle touch of a mother shaking me awake for school, the hand of a husband pulling me into a warm embrace a few minutes early, the cry of an infant letting me know he was hungry whether I was ready to get up or not!  I remember when those cries turned into coos and laughing as those same babies woke and played quietly in their cribs before the hunger pains set in.  Wonderful alarm clocks indeed.

            Alarm clocks are not just for waking us in the morning.  Alarm clocks for the soul have a much more serious job.  I can remember moments in my life when a word was said, a scripture was read, or a thought from a deep meditation suddenly blared in my heart as loudly as any alarm clock on the bedside table.  In one moment I knew I needed to make a change in my life, and I needed to do it quickly. 

            Keith has gotten so deaf that he can no longer hear an alarm clock.  We bought one designed especially for the hearing impaired—the “Sonic Boom and Earthquake Alarm Clock.”  He needs it for the few times a year I am not at home to hear for him.  Even though the extra loud “sonic boom” alarm would have me plastered to the ceiling, he still cannot hear it, so he uses the “earthquake” part of the clock.  A plastic disk about four inches in diameter lies beneath the mattress.  When the clock reaches the set time, this pad begins to vibrate—not just a little massage, but a pulsing shake that can take your breath away.  In fact, the company told us to lie on the bed and try it out while we were awake the first time.  They had too many customers come close to a heart attack when their first experience with it came while they slept.

            Sometimes it takes a good hard shake like that to wake us up.  We are too good at rationalizing and too poor at applying the scriptures to our own lives.  “But I didn’t mean…”  “But it’s not the same thing as…”  “But I would never do that…” escapes our lips too often for it to really be true. 

            The best alarm clock your soul can have is a trusted brother or sister in the Lord who is not blinded by his or her friendship with you, and whom you trust to tell you the truth for your own good, even when you don’t want to hear it.  Far better to have a one of those than have the Lord send you an earth shaking event to wake you up.  Neither a sonic boom nor an earthquake for the soul will be pleasant. 

            Get yourself an alarm clock and set it.  Then listen for it.
 
Besides this you know the time, that the hour has come for you to wake from sleep.  For salvation is nearer to us now than when we first believed.  The night is far gone; the day is at hand.  So then let us cast off the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light, Rom 13:11-12.
 
Dene Ward

On December 5, 1992, the first text message was sent by Neil Papworth:  “Merry Christmas.”  We’ve certainly come a long way, and I am way behind.
 
           I especially have a difficult time with the new language of texting.  HHAYT?  F-TY?  ROFL?  FWIW?  BFF?  I wonder if some day we will all forget how to actually spell out words and future generations will need some sort of Rosetta Stone to figure out what we were saying to each other.

            From the context of several blogs I read, I finally understood that BFF must somehow refer to “best friend,” but the second “F” had me stumped.  Best Female Friend was the best I could come up with until the day I saw it appended to a man’s name.  So I swallowed my pride—yet again—and asked.  “Best Friend Forever,” I was told.  Mystery solved.

            Yes, you know me by now; I started thinking about Bible things.  This one is really so obvious, isn’t it?  Yet it seems somehow inappropriate to us to refer to a Divine Being as our “Best Friend.”  In fact, Jesus was called “a friend of sinners” as an insult wasn’t He?  The Son of man came eating and drinking, and they say, Behold, a gluttonous man and a winebibber, a friend of publicans and sinners! Matt 11:19.  Aren’t we so glad He was? 

            James had no qualms about calling Abraham “the friend of God,” 2:23, because of the life of faith he lived.  It is possible, in fact, it is something we should all strive for.  What better friend could we have? 

            Do you think you cannot possibly achieve that goal?  Abraham was not a perfect man; he failed more than once.  Remember his lie about Sarah being his sister, something they tried everywhere they went, not just the two places they were caught at it, Gen 20:12,13?  How can we see that as anything but a lack of faith in God to keep them safe?  Yet all through his life, not just in this but also in the decision to use Hagar as a surrogate, Abraham probably did not envision his failures as faithless, but as a man who truly believed God’s promises and showed that belief by trying to help God when it seemed that circumstances might interfere. 

            Abraham learned over the years through the many misfortunes his “helping” brought him, that God could take care of Himself, that He did not need Abraham’s assistance.  The Lord waited until Sarah was physically unable to bear children.  He had Abraham send away Ishmael, the “just in case” baby.  Finally, on that lonely mountain when God asked the unthinkable, Abraham “got it.”  “God can raise him from the dead,” the Hebrew writer tells us Abraham thought, 11:19.  So he did as God asked and offered his son, just as his Friend would one day offer His.

            You don’t have to be perfect to be a friend of God.  You just have to believe and grow in that belief, learning to trust no matter how senseless it seems, to obey no matter the cost.  Do you want a real BFF?  So does God.  So does His Son.  And you can be it.
 
Greater love has no man than this that a man lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends, if you do the things which I command you, John 15:13,14.
 
Dene Ward